


Fidelity

by lielabell



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Angst, Breaking up is hard to do, Don't worry, Emotional Baggage, Jett's not sure, Kendall is though, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Night Stands, Pining, anyway the sex is HOT, especially when you weren't really dating to start with, except for how you kind of were?, maybe? - Freeform, sorta - Freeform, they work it out in the end, this is why we use our words boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jett’s got a list titled <span class="u">Top Five Ways to Make Kendall Pay For Being A Massive Bag of Dicks</span>, which is chalk full of brilliant ideas about how to make Kendall suffer.  Ideas like mocking the size of his penis (number three) or commenting on the way his eyebrows have seemed to take over his face (number five) or making out with a hot Scandinavian man with washboard abs and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of in front of him (number one).</p><p>Too bad none of those ideas make the transition from fantasy into reality when Jett wakes up the morning after with a hangover and a sexy, sleep-rumpled Kendall Knight in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for [Big Time Bang](http://bigtimebang.livejournal.com/) on LJ.
> 
> Ahahahahaha. This fic never would have happened without my darling dearest beta, Queenitsy. The amount of hand holding and cheerleading and, erm, ass kicking she had to do went above and beyond the call of duty. <3333
> 
> Art is by the lovely, and talented, goten0040!

Top Five Things I Wish I Remembered About Last Night

5\. Why my shoes smell like jello. I mean, what is that even about? Actually, you know, I probably _don’t_ want to know that one.

4\. When did I decide that it was a good idea to text everyone I know that I love dick? And, also, why did no one take my phone away when I announced I was going to do it? Because I always announce I am going to do shit like that in advance and my friends are supposed to be trained enough to, you know, not let me do it. Which leads into the following:

3\. At what point did I tell my friends to piss off already? And, more importantly, what sort of craptastic friends do I have that they actually did? They should know by now that I am never to be trusted after I start hitting the tequila. Seriously. I have never in the whole of my life made a good choice after I’ve got a couple of margaritas in me. 

2\. Speaking of bad life choices, why on earth did I think that it would be a good idea to take someone home with me? I mean, sure, we used condoms, because as drunk as I was, I wasn’t _that_ drunk. But still. Bringing random booty calls home is not cool and I totally told myself that I was over that stage of my life. Seriously. I’m nearly thirty. Nearly-thirty-year-olds don’t get all liquored up and bring hot pieces of ass back to their place. That way lies madness and really, really awkward morning afters.

1\. How, of all the thousands of sexy, young gay men in Los Angeles, could I have possibly ended up with the most annoying, despicable, obnoxious, egotistical, self-absorbed douchewad of them all?

*

Jett wakes slowly to the feel of muscular arms wrapped tight around him and a warm thigh between his legs and, really, that’s not a bad way to wake up at all. In fact, it definitely makes number three on his Best Things to Wake up to the Morning After list, beaten out only by waking up to an early morning BJ (number one) and waking up to a full breakfast in bed, complete with orange juice, coffee, toast, fruit salad and a scrambled eggs (number two). Unfortunately the man responsible for that feat was incredibly insecure, which is why he never got a repeat performance and Jett’s never been treated to number two again-- although if Jett was as crap in bed as that one was, he would have been insecure too-- anyway, not important. What’s important here is that Jett is now pretty much fully awake and there is an impressive erection pressing into his ass. 

He lets out a soft moan and rocks back against it and is promptly rewarded by those lovely arms squeezing him tight and a pair of deliciously soft lips nuzzling at his neck. Jett lets out a pleased rumble. “Oh, that’s lovely, darling, don’t even think about stopping.”

There is a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, Jett. I wasn’t planning on it.”

Wait. Hold on. That voice... No! Jett pulls away, ignoring the other man’s protests, twisting so that he can see just who it is he was rubbing up against. Then he’s scrambling back off the bed, horror twisting in his gut. “Oh fuck, please tell me I’m still asleep.” 

Jett is not, of course, still asleep. 

He’s very, very much awake. 

And, unfortunately for him, so is Kendall.

*

Okay, so Jett sorta has an unhealthy obsession with lists. He’s blames it on John Cusack and High Fidelity, which, really, anyone with an unhealthy obsession with lists is wont to do. After all, John Cusack and High Fidelity made lists _cool_. Or, at least, cooler than they previously were. Because, come on. That movie rocked.

And, well, Jett was very young and very impressionable when he first saw it and John Cusack was kinda hot and that made list making hot and well. It’s just something that’s stuck with him, alright? 

Just like his crush for all things John Cusack stuck with him.

And his ability to latch onto slightly douchey men. Men like Rob Gordon, who are way too into themselves and their love of pretentious music and have thick eyebrows and devilish smiles and sort of terrible taste in clothes and yeah. 

Jett’s got a type. And he’s got bomb ass list making skills. 

And he’s also got a naked Kendall in his bed, which he next expected to have again. 

You know what Jett’s also got? A list titled Top Five Ways to Make Kendall Pay For Being A Massive Bag of Dicks which is chalk full of brilliant ideas about how to make Kendall suffer. 

Ideas like mocking the size of his penis (number three) or commenting on the way his eyebrows have seemed to take over his face (number five) or making out with a hot scandinavian man with washboard abs and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of in front of him (number one).

Lovely, brilliant ideas, those. And, unfortunately, ideas that do not make the transition from fantasy into reality when Jett wakes up the morning after with a pleasant burn in his muscles, that languid feeling you get after a night of great sex, next to a rumpled, sleep-sexy Kendall Knight. 

Oh no.

Not at all.

Instead Jett just flails a bit, manages to wrap himself up in a twist of blankets and sheets, and topples right off the side of the bed. Because Jett loves making an ass of himself. 

Really. 

He does.

How else do you explain what happens next?

What happens next, you ask? What happens next is this: Jett scrambles to his feet, clutches his mix of bedding to his chest and stares open mouthed at Kendall for far, far too long. Then he squeaks, because that’s the way his life is going right now, and he blushes because he fucking _squeaked_ , turns on his heel, and rushes into the master bath. He slams the door shut behind him, locking it with a groan, and tries to ignore the fact that Kendall is laughing.

Except he can’t at all. He can’t ignore _anything_ Kendall-related. Hasn’t been able to for more years than he’d like to admit. 

So, yeah. He sort of cringes because of course Kendall is laughing at him. Of fucking course. 

Then he takes a deep breath, drops the bedding and marches himself over to the mirror. He leans close, stares himself in the eyes, and lets out a full on rant of an inner monologue.

Which goes a little something like this:

_Alright now, time out._

_Let’s take a minute to reflect here, self. Let’s look at what brilliant life choices you have made this time. Because, hi. We are locked in a bathroom here. It’s our bathroom, which is a plus, but still. Locked. In. A. Bathroom._

_Not up there on our lists of ways to start off our morning._

_So look,self, you are probably wondering what is up with me locking us in the bathroom at this point. I mean, really. What does this solve? Nothing, nothing at all. Except to make us look like even bigger freaks than we already did. After all, everyone has had to deal with the consequences of a faulty set of beer goggles at least once in their lives. And most people have enough sense of self-preservation_ not _to freak out about it until after they have made it successfully through the awkward morning after ritual._

 _But most people are not us and most people did not just causally sleep with_ The One _._

 _And do I need to remind you, self, that , no, Kendall is not_ The One That Got Away. _Because, yeah. No one gets upset at getting another shot with that_ The One _._

 _Oh no. Kendall is not that_ The One _at all._

 _Kendall is_ The One That Fucking Broke Our Heart and Then Laughed About it With His Stupid Friends.

_Side note: the laughing about it with his friends thing? Totally unconfirmed. But it’s the sort of dick move that Kendall would make and I refuse to believe that it didn’t happen at some point, especially after the awkward as hell way all of his friends treated us once we were officially splitsville._

_God, Kendall is such a_ bitch _._

_Anyway._

_Back to the reason we are currently locked in our own fucking bathroom freaking out like a teen queen or something._

_Kendall Knight broke our heart._

_Remember that?_

_He_ broke _our_ heart _._

_Into a million little bits and pieces._

_And then he had the nerve to give us that stupid fucking smile shrug combo of his and ask if we could still be friends, never mind that he had gutted the hell out of us and yeah. That was fun. And here we are, six years older and not a damn bit wiser because... because we let him pull us with half a dozen margaritas and some lame ass pick up line about re-establishing the connection between the two of us which, what the fuck self. What the fuck._

_Really? That’s all it takes? A couple of shots followed by some Cuervo and that stupid, stupid smile and you just fall into bed with your legs open??_

_Really?_

_God, self. I am so ashamed of you right now. So ashamed._

_What the fuck. We are so not friends right now. We are not going to be friends until you clean your act up and find some god damn self-respect and, oh yeah, kick that giant bag of dicks you let fuck you out of the house with the understanding that he is in no way welcome back._

Now, to fully understand Jett’s inner monologue, which, you might have noticed, is a bit on the manic side, you have to understand a little bit more about the whole Kendall breaking Jett’s heart into a million pieces thing. 

So, here. 

Have a flashback. Because everyone loves a quick flashback: 

Once upon a time there was a boy name Kendall who was dating a girl named Jo and living in an almost-paradise named the Palm Woods. Also living in this almost-paradise was a boy named Jett, who was smarter and prettier than Kendall, and co-starting with Jo in one of your typical teenage drama-slash-romance shows that aired two hours after school let out Monday through Friday. 

Jett was massively into Kendall, who wouldn't give him the time of day. So Jett pestered and poked at him, because at least then Kendall noticed that he was in the room instead of just making cow eyes at Jo all the time. And then Jo left to take a spot in a movie that would be the making of her and Kendall was... Jett's not sure exactly what Kendall was. Some combination of lonely, bored, and horny, probably.

And Jett, well, Jett wasn’t above making use of that.

The first time they hooked up, it was because Kendall got drunk on cheap beer and then ran into Jett in the hall and started going on about how nice he thought Jett's ass was and how ironic that was, because Jett was an ass and not nice at all. But then he was mouthing at Jett's neck and running his hands over Jett's ass and Jett wasn't about to say no to that. 

And after that things just kept happening. Kendall would just show up at Jett's room with fast food or a new DVD or some video game and they would eat or watch a movie or play a game for awhile before jumping each other. And it was awesome. Even though all they really ever ended up doing was making out and grinding against each other till they got off. 

Kendall did go down on Jett a few times and rimmed him till he lost his mind, but they never even talked about penetrative sex. Which, okay, so Jett wasn’t really all that hung up on it, he was having a hell of a time with the makeouts and the frottage and the intercrural. It was seriously fun times and all, but... but Jett sort of wanted more than fun times. 

Something more like what he had seen back when he was watching Kendall fawn all over Jo. Something that involved stupid, cheesy dates and love songs and holding hands and drinking smoothies and... well... Jett sorta wanted a _relationship_. With Kendall. 

Sure, it was nice that Kendall started being decent to him in public, and that they hung out with Kendall's friends from time to time, but... Jett really, really liked Kendall. A lot. And it sort of sucked that Kendall was just in it for the cheap thrills. 

Still, Jett wasn't about to end things. Because, who knew, maybe someday Kendall would be more cool with his sexuality and they would be more than just a couple of guys who got off with each other every now and then. 

Then Jett got the break of his lifetime. His career took off in a way no one could have predicted and he was suddenly super non-stop busy. He was constantly on the road, promoting his movie and doing interviews and mall appearances and attending boring-ass parties to make the connections he needed to make. And, yeah, maybe he wasn't always able to get back to Kendall right away. That didn't mean that he wasn't still really, really into Kendall. Because he was. And he couldn't wait to get back to the Palm Woods and see Kendall again. 

Except... Well... Kendall sort of stopped calling. And stopped emailing. And didn't make their Skype dates. And then stopped texting. And when Jett actually managed to get back to the Palm Woods six months later, Kendall was dating some random guy Jett didn't even know, who had apparently moved in a few weeks after Jett left. 

Which just tore Jett to pieces. Because... because really, really liking Kendall? Yeah, at some point that had changed into really, really loving Kendall. And he wasn’t stupid enough to think that Kendall loved him, not when Kendall was so... _Kendall_.

God, Kendall never really even came clean to his friends about them, just sort of made jokes about how Jett was pretty and had “other qualities” that made up for his personality. Which... look, Jett had no delusions about them being in a _good_ relationship, but... but that didn’t matter anymore because good or bad or otherwise, they clearly weren’t in one now. 

Now Kendall actually _was_ in a good relationship. It just happened to be with someone else. Someone he liked ten thousand times more than he ever liked Jett. And how did Jett know that?

Because Kendall did _everything_ for this new guy that he had done for Jo-- took him on stupid picnic dates and bought him smoothies and made out with him next the pool where everyone could see. And Jett was back to being someone that Kendall didn't have the time of day for. He never so much as looked at Jett. Which pretty much said it all. Jett had never been anything but a sex aid to Kendall. And that gutted Jett. But that's life. You can't win everything. So Jett decided to take his agent's advice, bought himself a decent condo, packed his bags, and never looked back.

End of story.

Except... not. 

Because here he is, six years later, locked in his bathroom and freaking out while muttering at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Oh yeah. 

Jett makes some awesome life choices. 

*

The first thing Jett says when he finally vacates the bathroom is, “You need to leave,” and the second things he says is, “God fucking damn it,” because apparently Kendall already has.

And, really? Really? Jett was only in there for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes should have been just enough time for Kendall to finish waking up and stretch a little, not dress himself and make his escape. 

But whatever. At least he’s gone, right? That’s what matters: that Kendall fucking Knight is one hundred percent out of Jett’s life again. That’s what Jett wants. And it doesn’t hurt _at all_ that Kendall left without so much as a goodbye, because Kendall is a giant bag of dicks. And Jett doesn’t care about him a bit.

Right. 

That’s why Jett feels like he’s got a belly full of lead and a heart that’s just been freshly shattered again. 

Because Jett doesn’t care about Kendall at fucking all.

*

Top Five One Night Stands

1\. Kendall Fucking Knight, god fucking damn it. 

2\. The beefy, muscled guy who plays a werewolf or vampire or something supernatural on TV. Don’t really remember, as I was more interested in watching his lips move than listening to whatever he was saying. Anyway, he had a body just made for licking and his shoulders were perfect for biting and his stubble was amazing and lets not forget that brilliant, wonderful bit between his legs and actually, he almost beats out Kendall except Kendall is _Kendall_. Damn it. 

3\. That guy with the bleached blond hair, bright blue eyes, and the tongue ring. Oh Christ, that tongue ring. I think I’ll still be getting hard from the memory of it when I’m eighty.

4\. The boy with the tribal body art and the cheekbones. He did things that had me blushing while I was still begging for more. 

5\. Logan Mitchell. OH GOD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. I need to stop having one night stands. Or at least stop having one night stands with men I’ve known half my life who hang out together and are best friends and might possibly be able to compare my performances. Seriously. Although, I bet if I had one night stands with James and Carlos, they would be on this top five list too... Hum...


	2. Chapter 2

Top Five Reasons I Give For Why I Am Better Off Without Kendall In My Life

1\. Kendall is a massive bag of dicks. A super massive bag of dicks. The biggest bag of dicks to ever dick. And he’s totally unrepentant about it. Like, he doesn’t even get what a total super massive bag of dicks he is. Which is not hot at all. 

2\. Kendall has terrible, terrible taste in music. Being with him would mean that I would be subjected to whiny emo boys and pseudo intellectual girls and god. My ears would totally start to bleed and that wouldn’t be pretty for anyone.

3\. Kendall dresses like a blind homeless man. Seriously, he does. And I have an image to maintain here. I can’t be seen in public with the likes of Kendall Knight. Not if I want to stay on the “Hot” side of things. Which I most definitely do want to do, thank you very much. 

4\. Kendall prefers his hippie dippy body products to anything top of the line. Seriously. The man wears handmade organic deodorant he buys off of some random internet site and it comes in a plain glass bottle. No, really. He does. And that’s just ridiculous. No self-respecting member of the Hollywood elite can be with someone who uses deodorant made from baking soda, organic lavender flowers, organic rosemary, organic essential oils of tea tree, lavender, lemon, clary sage, and peppermint. (And, _no_ , it is _not_ weird that I know what Kendall’s hippie dippy deodorant is made out of. Why doesn’t everyone say that it is?)

5\. Kendall probably still likes hockey. _Hockey_. And he would probably still insist that I watch it with him. And then I would have to waste hours and hours of my precious free time snuggled up next to Kendall on the couch while Kendall shouted at who knows what and made stupid, adorable faces and threw popcorn at the screen. Because, god, having to do that is just _terrible_ and I totally don’t miss it at all.

*

Jett decides that the best thing to do is just pretend like nothing happened at all. Because really. He’s spent far too much of his adult life mooning over Kendall fucking Knight. And pretending should be easy, it really should. The only problem is... well... Kendall fucking Knight.

Because Kendall fucking Knight seems to think that a one night stand is the equivalent of rekindling a romance or something, and won’t go the fuck away. Which is just ridiculous. Really, really ridiculous. 

It starts with flowers. A small, tasteful bouquet which shows up at Jett’s office around ten in the morning. Jett isn’t there, of course he isn’t there, but one of his assistants is and said assistant snaps a quick picture and texts it to Jett. Jett is charmed, because everyone is charmed when they receive flowers out of the blue. And he stays charmed for all of four minutes, which is how long it takes for Lydie, his assistant, to send a picture of the card that accompanied the flowers.

Jett scowls as he reads it, then quickly texts back and tells Lydie to trash them, because no. He’s not keeping them. No way, no how. 

Lydie doesn’t respond, so Jett just assumes that she does what she’s told and that’s that. 

Or at least it should be that, except two hours later Jett’s phone is blowing up because apparently Kendall fucking Knight has a big fucking mouth and let something slip to Logan who “just happened” to “drop by” Jett’s office for a visit and saw the flowers, which should have been in the trash, if his assistant was worth the money he paid her, and read the note and wants to know what, exactly, went down last night and damn it all to hell. 

_It was nothing,_ Jett texts back after Logan sends a borderline hysterical text in which he threatens to show up on set and cause a scene. Which wouldn’t happen because Logan is a responsible adult and all, but still. A threat like that deserves a response. Even if it is only a shitty one. 

But, of course, that isn’t good enough for Logan, who starts ranting about intertwining destinies and fate, and about halfway through reading that batch of texts, Jett realizes that it’s not Logan he’s talking to, it’s James. Which... fuck. Logan knowing, Jett can handle. But James knowing is a whole other ball of wax.

Because _James_.

James is a hopeless romantic who has this crazy, crazy delusion that Kendall is secretly in love with Jett and has been since way back when. James thinks that Kendall _pines_ for Jett. Which is absurd. Kendall pines for no one. Especially not Jett, who Kendall dropped like a smelly old sock the second something bright and shiny and new caught his eye. 

But there is no convincing James of that at all.

 _Give the phone back to Logan, James,_ Jett sends, then hands his phone to Devon, his senior personal assistant, and goes back to being the best actor he can be. 

*

The next day there is chocolate. Heaps and heaps of it. The good stuff, too, the kind that no one can resist, especially not Jett, who is a not-so-secret chocoholic. Which is just not fair because there is no way in hell that Jett is going to eat chocolate from Kendal fucking Knight. 

Even if it is European chocolate. 

Oh god.

Life just isn’t fair. 

Because no. Jett has principles, damn it. Jett has integrity and self respect and he is not about to be bought off by chocolate.

No way. No how.

Still, it’s like flaying off his own skin to throw all that gleaming, glistening chocolate into the trash. He just... can’t. So he calls in reinforcements in the form of Lydie and Devon and has them take all that terrible, terrible chocolate away.

Jett pretends like he can’t hear them laughing while they do it.

He pretends for all he’s worth.

*

The next day it’s a book of poetry. The day after that it’s tickets to an exclusive movie premiere. The day after that it’s flowers again. And the day after that it’s cheese and an expensive bottle of wine.

And after that, Jett asks his people to turn away anything that comes from Kendall fucking Knight, unopened. Which might be petty, but seriously. It’s been a week. And Jett is sick to death of Kendall fucking Knight thinking he can just buy his way back into Jett’s bed.

Because really. 

*

“Oh my god, he’s driving me up a wall,” Jett whines to Logan at their standing biweekly lunch two days later. “Up a wall, Logan. You have to tell him to back off. For the sake of my sanity.”

Logan does that helpless-look-shrug-combo he’s perfected, probably as a defensive mechanism, way back when he first made the epically poor life choice of hanging out with the likes of Kendall Knight. “Kendall is Kendall. He comes on strong. Give it another week or two and he’ll stop all on his own.” Logan clears his throat awkwardly. “Or, you know, not. But either way, there’s really nothing you or I or anyone can do about it. Kendall’s... _Kendall_.”

Jett makes a very unhappy face for all of two seconds before he remembers that he is a very, very popular person and that his every movement is being documented by men holding cameras and there is no way that he is going to end up with his face looking all crumply and displeased on newsstands across America. So he slaps a happy times look on his mug and grins maniacally at Logan while he hisses out aspersions against Kendall’s parentage. 

“Hey, now,” Logan holds up his hands in warning, “don’t you be badmouthing Mama Knight.” 

Jett swallows his next comment and tries his very hardest not to scowl. Logan sips at his drink, his eyes twinkling with suppressed delight because he’s the sort of sick bastard who gets off on watching his friends suffer and Jett can’t help but cross his arms over his chest and huff. 

“Why are we even friends again?” he asks as he picks at the hem of his shirt sleeve.

Logan lifts a shoulder. “You couldn’t resist this?” he offers with a crooked grin.

“More like you couldn’t resist this, even when you’ve got Dak Zevon waiting on you at home,” Jett shoots back with a grin of his own. 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night.” Logan takes a bite of his sandwich and gives Jett smug eyebrows. Which... how is Logan even able to do that with his face? It shouldn’t be possible. But then a lot of things about Logan shouldn’t be possible. Like that fact that he’s as smart as they come, and a doctor, and still a huge fan favorite even though he was only ever a background singer in a second rate boyband and he hasn’t actively sought out the spotlight in years. 

Oh, and he’s also married to a fabulously wealthy A-list actor, but still manages to be the most down to earth person that Jett knows.

Because Logan is sort of magic or something.

Why couldn’t Jett have been fixated on _Logan_ back in the day? That would have solved all his problems in one fell swoop. But no, Jett had to go get his stupid heart set on stupid Kendall Knight and when he finally got his head out of his ass enough to notice what a catch Logan was, Logan was already taken. By Dak Zevon. 

Which, well, if Jett couldn’t have him, at least it was because Logan was already with someone super stellar. 

But still. It’s just not fair. Really, it’s not. 

Nothing is fair. Which is why Jett is sitting here picking at his food instead of eating it, and trying not to be sullen because he really doesn’t need the bad press. 

“Just,” Jett sighs, “Just tell him to leave me alone. Please, Logan. Tell him to leave me _alone_.” 

Logan scrubs a hand down his face and lets out a sigh of his own. “Fine. I will. But it won’t do any good. You know it won’t.”

“I know,” Jett agrees, prodding at his plate with his fork. Because it won’t. He knows it, even without Logan telling him. Kendall does whatever Kendall wants because that’s how Kendall works. But still. At least he will have heard that he needs to back off. And right now, that is all that matters.

*

If Jett’s life were a rom-com, this would be the part where the intrepid suitor overcomes the reluctance of his beloved. But Jett’s life is not a rom-com-- for all there seems to be an overabundance of interfering friends and thoughtful gifts and freaking flowers around him all of a sudden-- and all that’s happened is that his urge to scream at the universe has transformed into an urge to file for a restraining order, because _come on_. This is ridiculous. 

Kendall is just... _everywhere_.

He’s at all of the industry events that Jett’s people force him to attend. He’s at the personal parties Jett decides to grace with his presence. Hell, he even shows up at Jett’s gym. His _gym_. Is nothing sacred anymore? 

Jett almost walks over to where Kendall is conducting a casual conversation with one of the personal trainers while attempting to eye-fuck Jett. Almost. Because this is just ridiculous and someone needs to convince Kendall to back the hell off, and Jett knows that he is, realistically, the only one who can do it. But Jett also knows that if he does walk over there, he’ll just get sucked into Kendall’s center of gravity and would probably end up laughing at Kendall’s stupid jokes and not tell him off at all. 

So instead he just channels his frustration into his workout and tries not to focus on how out of control his life suddenly feels. 

*

“You know, if you didn’t want to get the full on Kendall treatment, you shouldn’t have ignored him,” James says as he breezes into Jett’s office like he belongs there. Which he doesn’t. Because Jett has not invited him. Because Jett does not want to hear James’s opinion. Which, clearly, doesn’t matter anymore because here James is, being all _James_ , and when did Jett become BFFs with all of Kendall’s BFFs?

Oh yeah. 

Back when they were not-dating or whatever it was. 

Fun times.

“I’m really rather busy, you know. I just so happen to be a world famous actor. And a up and coming producer as well. My time is extremely valuable,” Jett says in his snootiest voice, which James just snorts at. He tosses himself onto the couch that is only there for decoration and then gives Jett an appraising look. 

“I can’t believe how much you flubbed this one, dude,” he says as he sprawls out, looking for all the world like a cologne ad campaign. 

Jett tuts at James’s dramatics. “Don’t call me dude. Go away. I’m famous and important. You can’t just swan on in here and interrupt my work day with your shenanigans. Shoo.” He pushes a button on his intercom.

Devon chirps out an eager, “Hey there, boss man,” that has Jett rolling his eyes because _please_.

“He’s taken and you are wasting your efforts,” Jett informs him and can swear that he can hear Devon’s shoulders slump. “So next time, keep him out, alright?”

“Alright.” Devon’s voice has lost all of its pep and Jett sorta feels bad about that. But then Devon did let James in when Jett had specifically said not to, so... yeah. 

James makes a huffing sound, like he’s trying to stifle his laughter or something and Jett gives him a dirty look in response. 

“Don't you go trifling with the affections of my staff now, Diamond,” he says with a pointed finger shake. “Or I will do the same to yours. And you know how devastating I can be when I want to. I could have your well oiled publicity team in fits in less than twenty-four hours and you know it.”

James pouts at him and it shouldn’t be attractive, but it’s _James_ so it is, and Jett can’t help but sigh because really. Really? Does he have to be surrounded by glorious, funny, talented men _who are taken_? And who he happened to know before they were taken?

Although with James and Camille, it’s kind of a toss up, seeing as how James was clearly smitten from day one and it just took Camille a little while longer to catch on. 

Still, Jett _did_ know him before he hooked up with Camille for real, and James did give him the eye on more than one occasion, but did Jett follow up on that? Oh no, he did not. Jett was too busy swooning over Kendall fucking Knight to do anything but wander around with his head up in the clouds and... And this line of thinking is getting him nowhere and needs to stop right now. 

“Stop pouting, you big baby,” Jett says, tossing a balled up piece of paper at James, who sticks his tongue out at Jett as he bats it away. “Really, James, how old are you?”

James gives him a stern look. “Never ask someone who puts as much effort into looking good as I do about their age.”

Jett rolls his eyes. “Did you have a reason for coming over here? Other than wasting my time, that is? Because, as lovely as you are to look at, I really am very busy and extremely important.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But not too busy and important for me. I’m a dear, dear friend, Jett. You know I am. And you also know that every time our picture it taken together, you go up in popularity. So how’s about you and me go out for lunch someplace trendy and overpriced and talk about fuck all for a bit and get out pictures in all the papers. Sound good?”

Jett lets out a sigh because Jett actually is very busy and all, but James is right. Every time they appear in public together, the fans go wild. He pulls out his phone and flips to his day planner, scrolling down the list of things he’s supposed to do until he finds one that he can push back on with minimal consequences. “I’ve got an opening at five. Want to make it a dinner date?”

James beams at him. “Sure thing, Jett. You leave it all to me. I’ll give you a call around three or so with all the details. Bueno?”

“Bueno.” Jett slips his phone back into his pocket. “Now get out of here, you freeloader. I’ve got work to do.”

*

The thing about dinner dates with James is that they always turn into dinner and dancing with James. And that’s not a bad thing, really it’s not, because James is wicked hot and moves like his joints are made of liquid and wow. Dancing up on that definitely makes it onto Jett’s All Time Favorite Things To Do With Your Clothes On list. But dancing up on that also makes Jett ridiculously interested in spending some quality time with a fine specimen of the male form and right now he’s really not in the right headspace for that.

Which means that right now he’s got an epic case of blue balls and no hope of remedying that situation and so he’s really, really, really not equipped to be dealing with Kendall fucking Knight. 

Who, of course, is making his way toward them through the crowd.

Fuck. Jett’s. Life.

“Did you tell him I would be here?” Jett hisses in an undertone as his hands grip James’s hips, pulling him in tight.

James gives a little moan, then shakes his head. “I didn’t talk to him at all, Jett. I swear. I know how you feel about Kendall and I would never put you in a situation like this.”

“Well then how did he find out?” Jett shoots back, deliberately grinding up on James, which makes the other man’s eyes go dark. 

James’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, his teeth biting into the plump flesh of his lower lip. “You play dirty,” he breathes.

Jett swivels his hips again, pulling a ragged gasp out of James. “How did he find out?” he grits out.

“Kendall’s made of magic.” James leans in close, his mouth ghosting along Jett’s neck in a way that makes Jett want to whine.

“Bullshit.” His voice is a bit broken, but Jett can’t find it himself to care. 

“Yeah, that too.” James pulls back far enough to give him a bright, cheeky grin. “Bullshit and magic and just a dash of hardheadedness to round the mix out.”

Jett snorts and tugs him back close again, hands running up and down James’s sides. “You are not nearly as funny as you think you are.”

James opens his mouth to say who the hell knows what, but then Kendall’s right up next to them, his eyes glittering with something that looks like indignant interest. 

“Hi there, James,” he says, clapping a hand on James’s shoulder and dragging him back a step. “This is where I remind you that you are a married man and that, as such, you shouldn’t be getting all hot and heavy with anyone other than your lovely wife.”

“Fuck off,” James snaps, shrugging free of Kendall’s grip and moving back into Jett’s personal space. “You know as well as I do that Camille is always up for a little company.” His big hands curve around Jett’s hips, fingertips resting on the swell of Jett’s ass. “What do you say, Jett? Is this the time you finally give in and join us for a little ménage à trois?” He nips at Jett’s neck and Jett can’t help but moan. “Come on, Jett, say yes. I promise you’ll like it.” He rocks his hips against Jett and Jett moans again.

He sucks in a shuddering breath and then shakes his head reluctantly. “As hot as you are and as good as this feels, you know I can’t say yes. Camille is a lovely woman and I adore her to pieces, but she’s got those pesky lady bits, and you know how I feel about lady bits. But, god, feel free to keep on keeping on with what you are doing right now, because damn, boy.” 

“Cocktease,” James says playfully against Jett’s neck. 

Jett grins at that. “You have no idea how much of a tease I can be. None. And you never will, because you don’t have permission to play on your onesies and I’m never going to be up for sexy times with a girl. But, plus side, you get to go home and get that delicious erection of yours taken care of by the person you love most in the world, while me and my cock will have to make do on our own.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Kendall hisses, his voice disturbingly close to Jett’s ear. “I’m right here.”

Jett ignores him in the hopes that he will go away. It doesn’t work. Kendall just stands there, watching them dance and getting angrier and angrier until Jett can practically see the steam coming out of Kendall’s ears. And, you know what, that’s actually a pretty good look on him. 

Jett gives him a big smile, then rolls his body against James and lets out a low groan. 

“Fuck,” Kendall hisses and then James is being yanked away from Jett again. “Go home, Diamond,” Kendall snaps, his eyebrows pulled down in an angry vee and his jaw tight. “Seriously, just go home to your _wife_ and leave Jett here to me.”

Jett makes a displeased sound. “Um, hi. Jett doesn’t want to be left with _you_ , Kendall. So how about you piss off already? If anyone should be going home, it’s you.”

“No, it’s James.” Kendall moves into Jett’s space, angry eyes and all, his hands balled up into fists. 

“Please.” Jett rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “What even is your drama right now? James is a grown man. If he wants to dance with me, let him. We aren’t hurting anyone. It’s just dancing. That’s all it ever is between us. Just some dancing served with a side of harmless flirting.”

“It doesn’t look harmless from where I’m standing,” Kendall says between gritted teeth.

Jett rolls his eyes. “I don’t see where _you_ even come into this equation, Kendall. This is between James and me. If anyone has a right to object, it’s Camille. And she told me years ago that I’m more than welcome to join them anytime I want. Which, as I’ve already established, I don’t. So yeah. Fuck off already.” 

“God, Jett, I don’t understand you at all. Why are you like this? You know I want you, you _know_ it, but instead of taking me up on my very eager offer, you’re dancing up on a married man.” Kendall shakes his head, his eyes all lit up with anger.

Jett laughs, he can’t help it. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Seriously right now, Kendall. What is your damage? How can you even say something like that to me? What the fuck? Did you honestly just imply what I think you did?”

Kendall deflates a little at that, his shoulders going hunched. “Jett,” he says, his voice soft and hesitant, “I,” he reaches a hand out, like he’s desperate to touch Jett, then sighs and drops his hand, a lost look coming into his eyes.

Jett flinches back from that look, feeling oddly vulnerable, and _no_. Fuck that shit. Kendall has no right to be up in Jett’s face looking confused and hurt. Kendall isn’t his boyfriend. Kendall has never been his boyfriend. So Kendall doesn’t get to play the wounded card with him. 

“Go away,” Jett snaps, his tone harsher than he intends, but that turns out to be a good thing because Kendall sort of just sags into himself and then nods, turns on his heel and leaves. 

It's not till he's gone that Jett realizes that James left at some point too.

*

The next day there is an email from Kendall in Jett’s inbox. Jett scowls when he sees it, instantly moving his cursor over to the delete button, but he can’t quite make himself click it. He sucks on his lip, debating with himself, then rolls his eyes because really? Jett huffs out a sigh, then moves the cursor down and opens it instead. 

The email is short and to the point. Kendall apologizes for overstepping the line and promises it won’t happen again, citing his interest in Jett as his reason for acting the way he did. Jett snorts to himself, rolls his eyes again and deletes the stupid thing. 

He doesn’t think about responding to it at all. 

Not even a bit.

*

The Real Top Five Reasons Why I Am Better Off Without Kendall In My Life

5\. Kendall acts like what went down between us doesn’t matter at all. Because it doesn’t. To him, anyway. And, god, doesn’t that burn. Because it meant everything to me. _Everything_. But Kendall? He’s not bothered by it at all. From the way he acts, you would think that we were nothing more than good friends who somehow lost track of each other despite our best intentions, instead of lovers who broke up on bad terms and never really got over each other. Except for how he totally got over me. Hell, he was over me before it was even officially over. 

4\. Kendall is perfectly fine with telling all of his friends intimate details about my abilities in bed. Sure, it turns out that what Kendall said is tantamount to a glowing review and not mocking at all, the way I thought it would be. And, yeah, said glowing review is directly responsible for why Logan was so willing to give me a go, but still. It’s kind of totally demeaning and is once again evidence of how little I meant to Kendall back in the day. As if I needed any more proof on that front. 

3\. Kendall isn’t remotely interested in anything about me other than my body. Kendall’s _really_ into my body. God, is he ever. Kendall wants to touch me and lick me and rub up all over me. Kendall wants to press his dick into my ass and moan into my ear and tell me all about the great sex we could be having. But Kendall doesn’t want to hear my thoughts or feelings. Kendall doesn't give a damn about what I want in life or how I plan to make those things happen. Kendall would really rather I didn’t say anything at all. I know this because Kendall has told me so on more than one occasion. Because _that_ doesn’t hurt at all.

2\. Kendall doesn’t respect me. Not even a little bit. He mocks me constantly. It’s... It hurts. A lot. Because I actually do respect Kendall, even if he is a big bag of dicks who likes pretentious music and is far too hipster for his own good. Kendall has integrity, Kendall has drive and motivation and is doing good in the world. How can you not respect that? How can you not wish that someone like that might respect you too?

1\. Kendall doesn’t love me. Not at all. He never has and he never will. No matter how much I might want him to, or wish that he would. Which sucks massively, but what can I do?


	3. Chapter 3

Ways to Get Rid of Kendall My-Middle-Name-Ought-To-Be-Stalker Knight

5\. Pay someone off to get him super drunk and then slip something into his drink and shanghai him the way they use to do in the olden days. I’m sure that could still work. Los Angeles has an extremely busy port. There’s got to be at least one super sketch captain out there who could use an able bodied seaman...

4\. Make him think he's won an all-expenses paid ocean cruise, but then actually strand him on a deserted island. That shouldn’t be too hard. It would just involve getting one of my lovely and talented assistants to mock up some promotional materials and then mail them to him and have him get on a boat and sail out to sea and then, I don’t know, drop kick him off the side when he is close enough to the island to swim to shore. And then sail off into the sunset and never, ever see him again. Totally doable. 

3\. Trick him into getting in a box, by telling him that it’s like the modern day version of a giant cake with a girl in it and then he can, you know, just mail himself to me or something and then jump out and be all “Happy birthday, Mr. President” in my business or something and once he is inside and it’s all taped up and whatnot, be all, “ahahaha NO,” and then just mail that box to Abu Dhabi.

2\. Convince him that he’s really a llama. Because that would be awesome. Just picture it, stupid Kendall Knight walking around town thinking he’s a _llama_. Oh god, I can’t even. It’s too good. And all I would really need is a hypnotist with a watch or whatever. Getting him to submit to it might be a bit tricky... but maybe I could just say that I think it’s hot? That would work. I mean, who isn’t turned on by a little hypnotism?

1\. Find a way to tell him what I really think of him. Don't hold back. Don't pull punches. Make sure he hears it, better yet, make sure he _understands_ it. It’s going to hurt, oh god, is it ever going to hurt, but it needs to be done. So just suck it up and do it already. Rip that band aid off. Because a little pain in the here and now is more than worth it if it prevents another shit storm of unhappiness like what happened the last time Kendall Knight pulled games with my heart. 

*

Jett is done. Just done. The Dancing Fiasco, as Jett has decides to refer to it, is the straw that broke this poor camel's back. His life has been spinning wildly out of control for the last bit of forever and now he’s hit his capacity for tolerating the stupid behavior of his not-quite ex. It was bad enough when Kendall was bombarding Jett’s office with candies and flowers and useless gifts, but now that Kendall’s gone all Edward Cullen on Jett’s ass, it’s... it’s...

It’s like Jett’s life has just spiralled off into an abyss or something. Which, yes. That might be a little bit melodramatic, but still. That’s how he feels. Like he has absolutely no control over anything at all. Kendall will be there whether he likes it or not, smiling his stupid smile and being his stupid confident self, and Jett can’t do a damn thing about it at all.

He feels helpless, damn it, and there is nothing in the world that Jett hates more than feeling helpless. He’s worked his ass off his whole life so as to _never_ feel helpless again. Because, yeah. Being a kid in some small shithole town with a drunkass dad and a mom who tries, really, really tries, but just can’t make ends meet sucked. A lot. 

And there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t get his dad to stop drinking his paycheck away. He couldn’t make money. He couldn’t even figure out how to get his mom to leave his dad. But he could audition for a crap show on a local television channel. He could turn his pretty face into a marketable asset. He could make things happen by working ten times as hard as anyone else, and yeah, that’s what he did. Jett worked and worked and worked some more. He got his family out of poverty, though his dad is still a drunkass loser who pisses through whatever money happens to come his way. But, whatever, that’s what trusts are for. To pay for his parents’ house and put food on their table and make sure that his mom never has to suffer again. His dad can go right ahead and drink himself into an early grave, for all Jett cares. But his mom. His mom is going to have a good life if it’s the last thing Jett does.

Wow.

Tangent.

Anyway. 

The point is: Jett _hates_ being helpless.

And that is exactly how he feels right now. Because Kendall fucking Knight is a creepy ass stalker who stalks and that’s not cool. It’s not cool at all. And there is absolutely nothing that Jett can do about it because Kendall isn’t threatening him or even being a massive bag of dicks, even though being a massive bag of dicks is kind of Kendall’s default setting. He’s just... _there._ Being who he is and acting like he acts and making Jett’s heart ache like Jett swore it never would again.

It’s just not fair, him popping up everywhere looking like god’s gift to gay men with his stupid, stupid face and his ridiculous eyebrows and that sexy smug look he gets, and god. This just needs to stop. 

But... but Jett doesn’t know _how_ to get him to stop. 

Except...

Except maybe, just maybe, Jett’s crazy obsession with lists might just come in useful. Because if Jett can do anything, he can write a badass list detailing all the reasons why Kendall fucking Knight and his stupid fucking face need to back the fuck off and leave him alone. 

So yeah.

That’s what he’s going to do.

*

Turns out that writing the thing is not as easy as he thought it would be. Not as easy at all. Jett writes and rewrites his list of reasons, because, well. He only really gets one shot at this and he wants to do it right-- to get his point across in a way that is impossible to misunderstand. But, at the same time, he doesn’t want to be malicious or hurtful. Sure, he’s not going to pull his punches any, that would defeat the purpose of the exercise, but there’s a lie between forceful and cruel that Jett just doesn't want to cross. 

So he hems and haws a bit, considers his reasons over and over, changes his diction here and there, until he was what he thinks is a fair representation of his grievances. It’s clear and consise and, he hopes, should do the trick once and for all. 

*

It's not hard, slipping the list to Kendall, because Kendall is still, for all intents and purposes, stalking him. All Jett has to do is have it on hand for the next time Kendall decides to try and force push his way back into Jett’s life. So, when Kendall crashes a publicly event, Jett is ready for him.

He moves across the room in Kendall’s direction, schmoozing with the best of them as he does. Kendall looks startled for a moment, then pleased, a wide smile spreading over his stupidly handsome face. He tugs at the hem of his suit jacket, fiddling with the buttons in a way that would be endearing if Jett wasn’t so angry he can barely see straight. 

“Jett,” Kendall calls when Jett is within an easy distance of him, his voice happy and light. “I’m so pleased to see you.”

Jett’s mouth tightens as he does his best not to glare. “I’m certain you are,” he says in his best not-in-front-of-the-company-dear voice. He reaches into his inside suit jacket and removes the envelope he’s been carrying around for about a week. 

“What this?” Kendall asks as Jett hands it over. He runs his finger down the side, then lets out a whistle. “Fancy.”

Jett makes a noncommittal noise. Maybe it was a bit much, getting the list hand calligraphed like it was a wedding invitation instead of a thinly veiled cease and desist letter, but Jett’s never been one to do things by halves and, if nothing else, the evident cost and effort that has gone into the thing will only stand to highlight its importance. 

Kendall gives Jett a curious look. “Did you want me to open it now?” he asks, his voice gone soft and unsure. 

“Yes,” Jett bites out, even though the answer is really “no,” but Jett is an adult now, and as such he knows better than to run away from unpleasant conversations. Besides, he needs to be on hand, needs to witness Kendall’s reaction for himself. There can be no room for misinterpretation this time.

Still, it’s hard, so damn hard, to actually do it. 

Now Jett is the one fiddling with his clothing as he watches Kendall open the envelope and pull out the heavy card stock within. Kendall doesn’t say anything as he reads, just gets paler and paler, until he looks like a man who has received a death wound. 

“Okay,” he says, rapidly blinking like he is on the edge of tears. “Alright, I get it now.” He sucks in a breath like he is steadying himself, his eyes briefly fluttering closed. Then he nods once, turns on his heel and leaves.

Jett stands there, watching him go, and tries to tell himself that it’s not heartbreak he’s feeling.

*

Top Five Reasons Why Kendall Should Go Away And Leave Me Alone

5\. I don’t want him around. That should have been made clear by my complete lack of interest in him and all of his overtures. Yes, we had a one-night stand, but I was drunk as hell and didn’t know what I was doing. I’m not saying it was not consensual, it totally was, and it was good, why even lie about that? But would I have taken him home if I was sober? Hell no. 

4\. Desperation doesn’t look good on anyone. Seriously. I want someone confident and fabulous by my side. Not someone pathetic and needy. Also, stalking me is creepy and not at all legal. If I had any second thoughts about my Kendall-free lifestyle, they would have vanished the second Kendall started shadowing my every move. This is real life, not Twilight, thank you very much.

3\. Because Kendall does not respect me or what I want. He thinks everyone who loves fame is fake. He has never once asked why I care about being famous. And someone who thinks I’m that shallow does not belong in my life.

2\. I am not a teenager who is totally okay with hooking up with whoever happens to be around. Sure, messing around with Kendall is fun, loads of fun, but I’m at the stage in my life where “fun” just doesn't cut it. I want a relationship, an honest to god relationship, with someone I actually have a chance of making forever work with. Kendall is never, ever going to be that person for me. He needs to accept it and stop trying to force me into dating him. 

1\. My relationship with Kendall was one of the lowest points in my life. I refuse to ever put myself in a situation like that again. I am no one’s dirty little secret. I’m not someone you can fuck around with in private and then make fun of in public. I am worth more than that. I am worth far more than Kendall is capable of giving me. He needs to respect that and accept that no means no.

*

It takes a little while for Jett to compose himself after that, for his smiles to go from forced to sincere and his laugh to be anything but bitter, almost as if _he_ were the one receiving devastating news, instead of the other way round. Guilt burns in him, unwelcome and completely unearned, but there nonetheless, sinking into him until he can feel it in his bones. 

Maybe it's because of the way that Kendall's face lit up when he saw Jett enter the room, or the way he smiled, so sweet and tender when he realized that Jett was walking towards him instead of avoiding Kendall like he would normally do. It could have been the eager laugh Kendall gave when Jett stopped in front of him, holding out the envelope with his list inside, or the way Kendall's hands shook as he opened it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way all that eager happiness disappeared the moment Kendall started reading. The way his eyes dimmed and his smile vanished and, god, when he sucked in that breath, looking for all the world like Jett had sucker punched him.

Maybe it was that. 

Or maybe it was the empty, hollow way his voice had sounded when he spoke, the way the words seemed to be dragged out from the very heart of him. How he closed his eyes briefly, then blinked them open and gave Jett a final, pained look before nodding and making his way out the door.

Whatever it was, it made Jett ache inside. And Jett doesn’t like that at all.

But, like it or not, it seems to have worked.

Kendall actually _does_ get it, because he stops with the wooing. He doesn’t call. He doesn’t text. He doesn’t pop up at random locations. Complete radio silence. It’s like it was before their stupid drunken hook up. And that’s just want Jett wanted. 

But if that’s what he wanted, then why does getting it make him feel so goddamn sad?

Jett doesn’t know. He doesn’t know at all. But sad he is. Super, uber, ridonkulous sad. The sort of sad that tragically noble heroines in those dime store novels get after they chased away their cruel-to-be-kind pirate lovers who were only after one thing, but who they (the tragically noble heroines, that is) somehow still managed to fall ass over elbows for. 

Except that in those sorts of books, there is always some evil uncle or dastardly lord or sex crazed childhood friend waiting in the wings to capture the tragically noble heroine and thus provide a means for the cruel-to-be-kind pirate lover to redeem himself slash prove his epic and undying love. 

And that’s so not going to happen here. 

So yeah. 

Enough with the sad already.

He’s done now, thanks.

Jett’s not a depressive person, he’s not. And he refuses to let Kendall fucking Knight turn him into one. Sure, he’s not some bubbling optimist most of the time either, but he’s not the sort to wallow in misery. He likes to think of himself as a realist. And, as such, he has policy of complete self-honesty. Because if you can’t tell yourself the truth, then what hope do you have of telling anyone else?

He’s not nearly as blunt as he was when he was younger-- god, it was a wonder he had any friends at all, with how brutal his honesty often was-- but he still doesn’t sugar coat anything, especially not with himself. Which means that he knows exactly how ridiculous he is currently being. 

It stupid to be heartbroken over something that he did himself, something that he did because he knew that only pain and suffering would result if he _didn’t_ take the course of action that he did. So the moping? The hanging around the house all scruffy from lack of shaving, wearing dirty PJ pants? It needs to stop. It needs to stop right now. 

Kendall fucking Knight is not Jett’s woobie. 

He’s not. 

Jett has no reason to be sad, no reason to be acting like it’s the end of the world. Because Kendall isn’t some tragic, doomed soul who is trying to fight his way back from the brink. He’s not doomed or tortured or anything else. He’s just a guy. A selfish jerk face of a guy. Who Jett just happened to fall for when he was a teenager who didn’t know any better and who he hasn’t been able to shake ever since. 

Which is just plain stupid.

Jett is better than this. 

He is. 

Isn’t he?

Damn right, he is. 

Jett grits his teeth and marches himself into his master bath.

“Stop it,” Jett tells himself, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter tight as he stares into his own eyes. “Stop it now. You are not doing this. You are a fabulous, famous, rock star of a human. You have fans who would give their left tesitcle to be in the same room as you. There are websites devoted to your ass, for Christ’s sake. You have hit the bigtime, buddy. You are solid fucking gold. So you buck the fuck up, you grin and you smile and you make the world your oyster again. You stop this nonsense and you stop it now.”

Jett splashes water in his face and takes a deep breath. Then he nods to his reflection and turns out the light. 

As far as he’s concerned, the discussion is now closed. 

*

“Take me somewhere fabulous,” Jett demands when Logan answers his phone. 

Logan lets out a laugh. “Does dinner at Turandot's count? Because I can take you there in a heartbeat and buy you something just swimming in chocolate and pretend to be mesmerized by your every word, if it does.”

Jett lets out a squeal of happiness. “Oh, darling, yes! Turandot’s most definitely counts. When should I pencil you in?” 

Logn hums. “Let me see,” there is the distinct sound of fingers on keys and then Logan says, “Next Tuesday work for you?”

“Next Tuesday works like a charm,” Jett replies, not even bothering to check his schedule. If he does have a conflict, he’ll have Lydie change it. 

“Wonderful. I’ll book us a table as soon as I get off the phone.”

Jett smiles to himself. “Perfect. Just what I wanted to hear.” He switches the phone to his other ear. “Wanna know what else I want to hear?”

“That Kendall has come down with some form of douchebag rabies?” Logan guesses.

Jett laughs. “No, but that would totally make my year if he did.” He leans back in his chair. “But what I was looking for was a little insider information from you on what, exactly, Dak’s stance on that quote-unquote top secret project he was pitched last night was.”

Logan sighs. “Now Jett, you know I adore you, as witnessed by the fact that I am going to treat you to an absolutely decadent dinner in little less than a week, but I can’t tell you that. Spousal privilege is sacrosanct.”

“You’re no fun at all,” Jett pouts, though he honestly wasn’t expecting any response other than the one he got. “You can’t even give me a tiny hint?” he weedles. “Just a little idea about which way he’s going to jump?”

“Not for all the money in the world,” Logan says. 

Jett sighs dramatically, but then lets the subject drop. Because Logan is Logan and won’t budge an inch, as far as loyalty to his husband is concerned. They talk for a few minutes longer about nothing in particular before they start to make their farewells with promises to catch up again before their dinner date. 

Though Logan does get a little zinger in at the end with a casually dropped, “But really, Jett, don’t you think you ought to be making an effort to spend time with someone who isn’t married?” which is just this side of catty and not a bit true. 

And it’s not Jett’s fault that all his fabulous friends have up and tied the knot. And what’s he supposed to do? Just ditch them for a bunch of young, sexy singles? That’s not cool at all. 

Besides, it’s not like Jett spends _all_ his time with married people. 

Oh, wait...

*

“He’s pining for you,” James says as way of greeting when Jett opens his door. Jett’s feelings on the subject must be all over his face, because Camille rolls her eyes and swats James’s side. 

“I thought I told you that we were not talking to about this, James,” she says, her voice both fond and disappointed.

James gives her puppy dog eyes. “But they are both my friends and they are being _stupid_ about this.”

Jett snorts. “Not acting the way you want me to is not ‘stupid,’ you douche. Now stop pouting or I’m rescinding my invitation. You, my dear, are more than welcome to stay, whether he does or not.” He draws Camille into the entryway and then places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “You look ravishing as always. If ladies did it for me, your idiot husband would have a run for his money.”

Camille laughs and air kisses him back. “My idiot husband would be more than thrilled if you liked ladies enough to actually take us up on our offer and joined us for a round or two. He has such a thing for you.”

“Not at the moment, he doesn’t,” James snips, a pout still firmly on his face. 

Camille gives Jett an apologetic look. “Ignore him,” she says, tucking her arm into Jett’s and leading him towards the living room. “Now, tell me everything about this new movie you’re trying to get Dak signed on for.”

And that’s just what Jett does.

*

The knock at the door surprised Jett. He’s not expecting anyone, seeing as how it’s a little after ten on a work night and he was just on the edge of turning in himself. He frowns to himself as he pushes up off the couch and pads towards the front door. There’s another knock slightly before he reaches it and Jett lets out a sharp, “Coming, alright. Hold on.” Then he’s swinging the door open and fuck.

 _This is why god invented peep holes_ , he thinks, _to avoid answering the door when it’s your not-exactly-ex on the other side._

“Kendall,” he says with a sigh, “I thought we had moved past this.”

Kendall chews on his lip a little, then sort of shrugs. “I,” he dashes a hand through his hair. “Look, I know that it probably won’t do me any good, but I had to talk to you. Face to face. At least once.” He hunches his shoulders. “Please,” he says softly and Jett feels his hackles rise.

“You know, I thought that I had made it pretty clear how I felt about talking to you, but I guess I didn’t,” Jett snaps. “Because otherwise you wouldn’t be making late night appearances at my door step.” 

“Jett,” Kendall starts, but Jett stops him with a shake of the head. 

“No. We are not doing this. You are not ambushing me in my own home in the middle of the night. It’s not happening.” 

“Jett,” Kendall says again, somehow making Jett’s names stand in for “I’m trying to be reasonable here” and “don’t be an asshole” at the same time.

Jett scowls. “I don’t want to talk to you,” he says slowly, carefully exaggerating his pronunciation of the words. 

“Why not?” Kendall’s voice is rough with emotion,his face twisted up in confusion and hurt. “Why the hell not? I don’t get it, Jett What did I do that was so fucking horrible that you can’t even be bothered to listen to my side of it? Huh? Can you explain that to me? Because I just don’t get it at all.” 

Jett's heart is beating way too fast and his hands are balled into fists. "Really?" he jeers. "Are you seriously asking me that right now?" 

"Yes, really," Kendall fires back. "I mean, I realized a long time ago that you are never going to want me the way I want you. I get that. I just... I guess I thought that," he shakes his head again. "Fuck, I'm so stupid. You're right. I shouldn't have to ask. I should already know. I mean, you've never hid what you thought of me. You've always been super clear about that." Kendall gives a nasty laugh.

"Kendall Knight, good for a fuck and nothing else,” he continues. “Not that I blame you. The things I said, the way I treated you. Of course you didn’t want any more than that from me. But.. it's been years, Jett. _Years_. I’m not trying to say that I wasn’t an ass to you, back then. I know I was, but I’m not like that anymore. I'm a good person. I swear I am. Yeah, maybe I was a dick when I was a kid. Maybe I ran my mouth too much and thought I knew everything. But I'm older now. I've grown up. In a lot of ways. I have informed opinions and everything. I swear I do. If you just gave me a chance, you would see that." His shoulders slump and he closes his eyes. "Why can't you just give me a fucking chance? I know that I wasn't worth your time the last go round. I get that. And I'm not saying it didn't hurt like hell, having you dump me, but I understand why you did. But, come on, Jett. Was I really so terrible a person that you can't give me a second chance?"

Jett laughs. He can't help it. "Oh god, that is good," he says, giving Kendall an incredulous smile. "You know, if I didn't know you, if I hadn't lived through it myself, I would almost believe you. You're so damn sincere about it. Jesus, Kendall. I didn't know you were that good of an actor. Forgot the douchey hipster producer gig, you should be headlining movies, with a talent like that."

Kendall sucks in a breath, his face going white. "I," he licks at his lips. "Fuck." He looks down at the stoop his body stiff. "No. I said I was going to do this and I'm going to. And if you want to mock me for it, well, maybe then I'll finally get the fuck over you." 

"What are you--"

"No." Kendall's voice is hard. "No. I'm talking now. It's my turn. When I'm done you can say whatever you want. But right now, I'm the one doing the talking. Alright?"

Jett nods jerkily. "Alright." He runs a hand down his face. "Alright. You know what, why not? God knows, we need to clear the air. Maybe if I just let you vent or blow off steam or whatever you will be better equipped to deal with the fact that you and I are never going to happen." He steps back and gestures towards the entryway. “Feel free,” he says. 

Kendal touches the corner of his mouth with his tongue as he steps forward, looking as hesitant and unsure as Jett has ever seen him. A part of Jett aches at the sight, even as another, louder part sneers. 

"Come on." Jett turns and makes his way to back to the living room, settling himself down on one of the armchairs like it was a thrown. He looks at Kendall expectantly, who is hovering in the doorway, that pinched, uncertain look still on his face. “Sit already.” 

Kendall continues to stare at him for a long moment, then nods to himself and crosses the room. He drops down onto Jett's couch, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs, clasped hands dangling between his legs. 

Kendall closes his eyes for a moment, visibly steadying himself, then he nods and opens them. “You know, I’ve thought about doing this a lot. About sitting you down and telling you everything, absolutely everything, I ever wanted you to know. I had a whole speech written out, at one point, with your imagined responses and all, but now that I’m here, now that I’m actually doing this, all I really want to say is that I loved you. I didn’t do a good job of showing it, hell, I actively did my best to _not_ show it, because I was young and stupid and somehow thought that if I kept it to myself, it wouldn’t matter.” 

He huffs out a laugh. “Actually, fuck that. What I thought was that if you knew, you would leave. That you would laugh in my face and tell me how stupid I was and leave. So I kept it to myself. Acted like you didn’t matter, like you weren’t the most important thing in my life, because I was convinced that _that_ was best the way to keep you. And, god, was I ever wrong.”

Kendall sucks his lower lip into his mouth and shakes his head. “I’m not make sense here, am I?” he asks, his voice fragile in a way that leaves Jett wanting to comfort him.

But...

But nothing.

“Kendall,” Jett starts, leaning forward a bit, “I don’t, that is, I’m not...” He makes a frustrated sound. “Jesus, Kendall. What are you even talking about? What version of events are you working off of? Because I swear, it’s like you’re from a completely different timestream than me.”

“What?”

Jett scrubs a hand down his face. “Don’t look at me like that, man. Not when you are the one talking about loving me and losing me and acting like it wasn’t your choice how things went down, and that’s wrong. Kendall, you know it’s wrong. I didn’t leave you. You left me. Or, I mean, alright, I physically left you, but that was just to promote my movie. I didn’t end anything. _You’re_ the one who stopped calling back and stopped texting and you missed our Skype dates and didn’t respond to my emails and if all of that didn’t add up to you being the dumper and me being the dumpee, then my coming home to find you frolicking about the Palm Woods with some other fucking guy certainly did. So, yeah. I’ll say it again. What version of events are you working off of? Because the one _I_ lived through sort of sucked fucking majorly for me and didn’t really seem to suck all that much for you.”

Kendall lets out a stuttering laugh. “What?” he asks again, like it’s the only word he knows how to say. 

“You’ve got to work with me here, buddy,” Jett snaps back, “because I’m so confused right now. You know no idea how confused I am. This definitely makes the top of my Most Confused Moments in the History of Ever list. And that’s not a good list to be on, Kendall. So, yeah. Make this make sense for me. Because I’m so fucking lost.”

“You’re lost?” Kendall scoffs. “More like _I’m_ lost.” He shifts closer on the couch, his eyes taking on an almost manic light. “You pulled back from me. I swear you did. I was the one ass over elbows. I was the one frantically trying to figure out how to make forever out of a not-quite relationship that consisted of two thirds snark and one third frottage. Really, really hot frottage, but frottage all the same. And then you left, and, yeah, I get it. I got it then, even. You weren’t going to say no to that publicity tour. And you shouldn’t have had to. Even if we had something more, I don’t know, concrete than what we had, you still would have needed to go. Because it was the right thing for your future. I know that. I knew that then. And I tried not to be resentful, I did. But then you started pulling back, you started, fuck, ignoring me, for lack of a better word. And I, god, I took it like a man. At least that’s what I told myself I did. And, yeah, maybe I threw myself into a new relationship, maybe I went over the top and did all sorts of stupid, pointless things for him so that you wouldn’t think that I was still hung up on you, but, god damn it, Jett. I was. I still am. All these years later, and I still am.”

Jett goggles at him. “Wait, hold on a second. Did I hear you right? Did you just say that you thought that I was ignoring you? Kendall, I was on a fucking press tour. I was in a different city every day, doing meet and greets and cast interviews and god knows what else. I wasn’t ignoring you. I was doing my job.” He lets out a disgusted snort. “It was driving me crazy, the schedule they had me on. The way it kept me from being with you, hell, half the time it kept me from talking to you at all. I couldn’t wait to get home, to get back to you. And then I did and there you were, buying some fucking twink smoothies and acting like I was something you scraped off your shoe.”

Jett bites back a laugh. “And now you are telling me that you only did that for a front? To make me jealous or whatever? You tore out my heart and stomped on it because you wanted to show me that you didn’t need me?” He tosses his hands up in the air. “You know what, that’s actually worse than you not giving a shit about me and my feelings in the first place. Because at least then it was just you being an oblivious dick. Now I know it was really you being a first class asshole. Thanks, Kendall. Thanks for clearing that up. How about you get the fuck out and let me get on with my life?”

“No! Wait, that’s not,” Kendall jumps up, a frantic look on his face. “Why are you acting like this? Why aren’t you letting me explain?” 

“I thought that was what you just did,” Jett shoots back, gritting his teeth in frustration. “Didn’t you just walk me through the why and wherefores of what happened? Didn’t you just tell me, and I’m quoting here, that you ‘went over the top’ to prove to me that you weren’t ‘still hung up on me’ or whatever? Because that’s what I remember you saying just two seconds ago. Did I get something wrong, Kendall? Did I misunderstand?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I swear I didn’t,” Kendall’s voice is frantic. “You’re twisting it all up, making it sound terrible and, and, that’s not what it was. That’s not what it was supposed to be. I was hurt, alright? I was so fucking hurt. Just the thought of seeing you was like a kick in the nuts. So I did what I did to, I don’t know, keep from hurting more. It was stupid, alright, is that what you want me to say? Because I’ll say it. I’ll tell the fucking world. I was nineteen and stupid and I made the worst fucking choices. And I ended up hurting anyway, so it was all pretty damn pointless.” He buries his face in his hands. “And now here I am, six years later, still trying to figure out a way to turn sex with you into something more because... because I still love you, Jett. I still love you even though you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t love me. God. What am I even doing here?”

“You love me?” Jett asks incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Kendall replies, sounding defeated. “Yeah, I do.”

“That’s really tragic,” Jett says, ignoring the hurt sound that comes from Kendall, “because it just so happens that I love you too. Always have and, knowing my luck, probably always will.”

Kendall winces back, his eyes going wide. “Don’t say that,” he snarls, his face going ugly. “Don’t fucking mock me. I can put up with a lot from you, Jett, but I can’t handle that.”

Jett laughs, bitter and unhappy. “Oh, god, of course. Of course. You don’t believe me.”

“Why would I believe that?” Kendall asks, his voice flat. “You _don’t_ love me. You hate me. Like, a lot. Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to beat into my head? How much you loathe and detest me? How the very thought of me makes your skin crawl?”

Jett makes a face. “I never said you make my skin crawl.”

“No,” Kendall says sourly, “but you implied it. Heavily.”

“Yeah, well that was because I thought that you just want to, you know, fuck around again. That you were just interested in hooking up and then would disappear on me again as soon as I started to let myself care about you. God, I couldn't handle going through that again. I barely made it through the first time.” Jett scrubs a hand down his face and shakes his head. “I never thought, I mean, I never even considered that you might want something more than that from me.”

Kendall rolls his eyes. “Oh no, of course not. That makes perfect sense. Everyone goes way overboard trying to impress people they don’t care about. I mean, two hundred dollars on a couple of boxes of chocolates is par for the course for fuck buddies these days.” 

Jett flushes. “Well, I don’t know. I’m not the sort of guy who runs around seducing every hot guy I see.”

“Neither am I!” Kendall makes an exasperated sound. “Jett, when are you going to realize that it’s you? It’s always been you, for me.”

Jett licks his lips. “Two hundred dollars?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Kendall nods. “Two hundred dollars,” he confirms.

“On chocolates that I gave to my staff.” Jett shakes his head. “What a waste.” 

“Yes, well,” Kendall gives him a pained look. “I was trying to impress you. I wanted to show you how much you meant to me, alright? And you like expensive things. You know you do.”

“You’re right, I do.” Jett lifts a shoulder. “But do you know what I like more? What would have actually managed to have impressed me?” 

Kendall shakes his head. “Honestly, Jett, I have _no_ idea.”

“You opening up to me, telling me what you just told me.” Jett gives him a hesitant smile. “That, right there, meant more to me than any box of chocolates ever could.”

Kendall smiles back. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Jett sucks on his lower lip, then takes a deep breath and pushes to his feet. 

“What--” Kendall starts, his eyes going wide and Jett crosses the space separating them, coming to a stop in front of the other man, who licks his lips and stares at Jett like he’s never seen him before, eyes shining with hope and something else, something that makes Jett’s heart skip a beat. 

“Kendall.” Jett’s voice is soft and low, his hands trembling slightly as he brings them to cup Kendall’s face. He lowers his head slowly, giving Kendall plenty of time to say no, to push him away. 

Kendall doesn’t. 

Kendall doesn't _at all_.

What Kendall does do is push forward, closing the distance between them. His mouth is hot and hungry, his hands eager as they come up to tangle in Jett’s hair. He pulls Jett down, arms wrapping around Jett’s body, holding him tight. He lickes into Jett’s mouth with a broken sob and Jett just melts in his arms.

They kiss-- frantic and hot, then tender and slow-- until Kendall’s lips are swollen, his skin tender from the scratch of Jett’s three day old scruff. Jett pulls back, studies Kendall’s face as he runs his fingers through Kendall’s hair.

“Please,” Kendall says his voice raw with emotion, “Please tell me you are serious about this. That you aren’t just jerking me around.”

Jett gives him a helpless smile. “I’ve always been serious about you, Kendall Knight. I’ve always wanted forever. This is just the first time I’ve had the balls to admit it.”

“I’m going to make this work,” Kendall tells him, tugging him close so that he can kiss up the side of Jett’s neck. “You won’t regret this I swear. I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you, wait, no. Scratch that. I’m going to _show_ you everyday how much I love you. Shower you with affection until you can’t believe that you ever thought I didn’t want you for keeps.” He presses a kiss to the side of Jett’s mouth, gentle and earnest, his hands brushing up and down Jett’s sides like he’s trying to soothe him. “I promise,” he says, his voice barely a whisper as he stares up into Jett’s eyes.

And, what do you know, Jett actually believes him. 

Top Five Ways That Jett Has Improved Kendall’s Life

1\. Being in a long term, committed relationship has done wonders for Kendall’s over all sense of life satisfaction. He’s happier, so much happier, now. God, the man hardly stop smiling. Just last week Jett let Kendall take him out for dinner on one of those harbor cruises and you never saw a more besotted man. He preened-- _preened_ \-- when one of those trashy housewives types told him how lucky he was to have Jett on his arm. 

2\. Kendall’s knowledge of arts and culture has expanded exponentially under Jett’s tutelage. This time last year Kendall thought that Rembrandt was a type of toothpaste and couldn’t tell Dali from Degas. That is no longer so. And Kendall actually expressed an interest is seeing Shakespeare performed live. True, he picked King Lear and that’s not exactly a what you would call a rolicking good time, but not every play can be Twelfth Night and, well, Jett will take what Jett can get. Now if only he could get Kendall interested in the ballet... 

3\. There are absolutely no hippy-dippy products in the Knight-Stetson household. None. Zip. Zelch. Because no one, repeat no one, needs deodorant made from baking soda, organic lavender flowers, organic rosemary, organic essential oils of tea tree, lavender, lemon, clary sage, and peppermint. That stuff costs a small fortune and doesn’t work for shit. Plus, it throws off Kendall’s natural body chemistry and Jett is so not down with that. Kendall uses T’eo by Lush now, thank you very much, and smells deliciously citrusy all the day long. 

4\. Being on Jett’s arm at all the hip and happening social events Hollywood has to offer has totally raised Kendall’s profile and made all sorts of people stop and take notice of him. This has translated into a much larger buzz surrounding all of Kendall’s activities and has given him much greater leverage when it comes to negotiating contracts with the talent his label represents. Boo yow, bitches!

5\. After numerous forays into Kendall’s wardrobe, Jett has _finally_ managed to eradicate all of Kendall’s slacker hobo chic attire, which, in turn, pulled Kendall out of The Worst Dressed list and into the ranks of the fashionable elite. _People_ magazine actually featured Kendall in one of their “How To Get Their Look” segments. That’s right. Jett’s man is one of the most G.Q. motherfuckers on the block.


End file.
